I was asked to comment on the meaning of life. It’s really easy to be cynical and say that life has no meaning and that we’re all just happy accidents of evolution. But for the sake of fairness I should give a proper answer.
Honestly I don’t know what to say about life. Life is interesting. Life is crazy. Life seems like it should be impossible. How is it that bags of water and bone are able to walk and talk and have feelings?
A lot of people say that life is sacred, that it is some kind of gift. I don’t know if I believe that. The presence of life can’t be nearly as important as the quality of the life, can it?
I’ve talked a bit about life itself but not really about it’s meaning. What could life mean? Is it about some greater purpose? Seeing as how we only have the ability to move and communicate and reproduce at will I don’t think humans are suited for anything greater. We can do amazing things but that’s really it. We are hardly special in the grand scheme of things.
I think if we have to assign a meaning to life it is a very limited space that humans have to be something. We’ll get to define that something ourselves. Nobody should get to dictate how we perceive our own lives and what we intend to do with them.
Life is about living. I think that (while a tautology) is really what it’s all about. Live. Whatever you consider living to be, do that. If the day comes when you kick it and you can look back and say “Dammit I lived” your life had meaning.
I’m sure none of this makes any sense. This is me rambling while under the influence of an herbal sleep aid. However it’s probably the best I can muster.